


Dragons

by Kirsten



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-14
Updated: 2006-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:05:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirsten/pseuds/Kirsten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vimes arrived home from the Yard in a sour mood. The night before Hogswatch always brought out the worst in people. <em>And</em> it was a full moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragons

Vimes arrived home from the Yard in a sour mood. The night before Hogswatch always brought out the worst in people. _And_ it was a full moon. There'd been two murders and seven stolen carts, and a rogue gnome with a grudge against the city's raven population. Vimes wanted to eat crunchy bacon for dinner and then fall asleep in bed with his wife, but Sybil wasn't in the house. He heaved a put-upon sigh and trooped down to the dragon pens.

Sybil was at the top of a ladder. She was hanging tinsel from the rafters. "Hello, Sam," she called cheerfully. She waved at him, and the ladder wobbled dangerously.

Vimes went over to hold the ladder. "Is that stuff flammable?" He cast a wary eye over the dragons and fought the urge to groan; Sybil had made them all festive collars of mistletoe.

And tinsel.

"You worry too much, Sam," Sybil said, smiling down at him. "I do this every year. It's nice to make the effort at Hogswatch. It helps them to feel part of the family."

A family, thought Vimes. Of dragons. He'd married Sybil and moved up in the world, no doubt about that, but did social elevation really have to include _dragons_?

"Every man has his cross to bear, Sam," said Sybil, apparently reading his mind.

"Er," said Vimes, and didn't make the obvious joke about wives.

Sybil finished hanging her tinsel and climbed down the ladder. She put the ladder away and then grabbed a broom. She gave it to Vimes. "Here," she said. "Put your back into it."

"Yes, dear," Vimes said, and began sweeping up the scraps of tinsel that had fallen to the ground. He paid no attention to the small balls of dragon dung and slag that made it into the pile. It was repetitive, soothing work, and Vimes would have enjoyed it if Sybil hadn't stood and watched him work.

"Sybil," Vimes finally complained.

Sybil smiled, and kissed his cheek. "Can't a wife admire her husband? Come up to the house when you're done," she added. "I have a special present for you."

"Crunchy bacon?" asked Vimes, with hope in his heart.

"Better than that," Sybil said, and winked at him. She blew him a kiss and went outside. Vimes stood and listened to her boots clump across the frozen garden, and then swiftly finished sweeping. He put the broom away and stood back to admire his handiwork for a few moments.

The dragons made snuffling noises in his direction. One of them flamed.

"Happy Hogswatch to you, too," Vimes said, and hurried up to the house.


End file.
